Moya Brennan

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These used to be something we had all the time, and we haven't had one for ages! Let's give it a try again.
For those who have never come across this unique artform I will explain. It's simple, I will post the introduction to a story, then someone can follow on with an entry, then someone else. Take it in whatever way you like - that's where the craic is!

So, let me see if I can still do this...

The sun was burning the mist off the hill of Tara, so that the moon was just faintly visible. As the view cleared, they came into view. They were something of a motley crew, all sizes and shapes and accents.
One of the group was sat on the wet grass with her chin on her knees, which were covered with a skirt about the colour of the rising sun. Around her shoulders was a black shawl with a pattern of roses on it. She was singing quietly
"I hear the sound..."
"G! Can't you at least start from the beginning?"

Off you go!

Music and friendship - the answer to life's problems.

I heard Your voice
Whisper to the wild water
Step By Step
Slowly I turn - Máire Brennan

No matter what,they were spoilt for choice,the remains of a time long gone made sure that boredom wouldn't be able to rear its ugly head.Rath Maeve was a good example of the fact that Tara belonged to a much wider complex of ritual and settlement sites.

Slowly they started to move but the normally easy walk didn't go to plan because ...

* No man ever wore a scarf as warm as his daughter’s arm around his neck.*

Dubhy63 happened to be around as he was a regular visitor of Tara and the other historic sites in Meath.Feeling sorry for Chris ,he wanted to make sure that the terrible beast couldn't get its claws near the poor fella,but this proved to be easier said than done.

Just as he believed to have figured out what the 6 nosed creature was planning,a lot of smoke started to fill the area.Could this be a trick of the beast or was something else causing the trouble ?

* No man ever wore a scarf as warm as his daughter’s arm around his neck.*

therefore Dubhy was still as surprised as the rest of the group,but there could possibly be some explanation for this inconvenience.A spark could have ignited one of the rubbish bins at the car park,but it was just a theory and had to be investigated by a brave member of the forum.

It happened to be ...

* No man ever wore a scarf as warm as his daughter’s arm around his neck.*

...nothing as exotic as the aforementioned possible causes. It was merely smoke that had blown across from a nearby bonfire - totally controlled, not unexpected in the least, and thoroughly boring. Oh well.

But then suddenly there was music .... beautiful music, a lovely female voice accompanied by what sounded like a harp...

If you don't know what eschatology is then don't worry; it's not the end of the world.Purveyor of fine sarcasm since 1966.

Grania knew who it would be, for she had heard that very voice before, even though it had been a number of years ago. Warning the rest of the group to keep quiet, she sneaked up to a small rise in the land, where she could hide behind a tree.

All of the others followed Grania's lead except Chris, who decided to make a circle and approach the source of the music from the other side.

Peeking from behind a small mound, Chris saw what appeared to be a long brown-and-white wall. At least, he thought it was, until it moved.

"It's a tail!" Chris thought to himself, doing all he could to stifle a bleat.

A few minutes later, Grania and the others heard Chris running up behind them.

"Don't go up there!" said Chris, "I just saw the tail of the six-nosed, four-bummed creature!"

Grania began to laugh. "It's OK, Chris, I know who it is. Follow me."

As the group topped the hill, they could see that the lovely female voice they had heard was not coming from a human at all. It was coming from a huge dragon!

Nessie was overcome with emotion. "Tallulah!" she screamed, running toward the dragon, finally arriving, and laying her head against the dragon's massive flank. "I love you!"

"I love you, too, and I've missed all of you so much!" said the dragon, gently caressing Nessie with her wing.

"I didn't know you could sing like that," said Nessie.

"Well, I have a good teacher," said the dragon, nodding toward the lovely lady playing the harp.

They knew for sure it wasn't Moya, since several of the group had left her behind in Dun Laoghaire to come here. The singing voice was quite similar, but the face was very dissimilar. It looked to them to be, you might say, ghostly.

A look of recognition came upon Jim's face, for he had seen that very face in old concert videos by Fairport Convention.

"Sandy Denny!" he said, partially aloud and partially under his breath, "I can't believe it! But you never played the harp before. Who taught you?"

"Him," said Sandy, pointing toward another ghostly figure that had appeared.